The Last of Days
by Zagury
Summary: Things change unexpectedly and Harry is lost until "the last of days."


Another War was beginning.

My time to fight was long over, had been for quite a few years, but I was still looked to for that same leadership and stupidity I had showed during the second War. This one wasn't my destiny, wasn't part of some prophecy that I would have fulfill in order to live. I wouldn't have to fight this time, I wouldn't have to.

But she and I did anyway.

It was a long battle, she was at my side and she was fighting her hardest. She cast those curses and hexes with the same flourish as she had so long ago, in the Room of Requirement, back on these battlefields, when she was sixteen and I was asking too much of her. Her wrist snapped like the twirl of her skirt, her eyes darted to meet mine every few seconds, and then she was back to battling the new enemies.

We didn't know anything about them, only that they were trying to wipe out anyone and everyone. They wanted to be the superior race, much like my last opponent, but they were young ones with nearly no experience on conquer. We still fought with rage and ferocity and passion, but they fought with fear and resentment and instability. They had no chance against us, not those young ones.

But the one older one did, the leader, and he knew who I was by the scar on my forehead. He knew my weakness because he knew what I had died for, and even my greatest strength was my one point of fragility. He looked at me, towered over me with long hair that hung in front of his pale blue eyes, took his wand and pointed it at her.

My counter curse was just a second too late.

And in that instant, my world fell apart and I was alone.

_Something's causing feet to fly,  
rising like a dark knight  
in silence  
traffic's slow with broken boats  
heading for the sea  
and I'm an island_

The moment after had been a flurry of my own vehemence, three curses cast in just a moment. Their fates were the same as hers; they bore the same blank stares, the same pale skin, the same wordless death that my Ginny had taken.

My Ginny.

Her skin was still warm, her cheeks still their same rosy hue, but her eyes were so cold. The deep, brown recesses stared up into the sky with nothing in them, and it hit me like ten Bludgers that she would never, ever look at me again. There was suddenly no breath left in my lungs as I choked on the sobs that surfaced from my chest. My hands wove into her crimson hair, the crimson hair that was still soft as it flowed between my fingers, and my palm held her head, helped me look at her beautiful face before the tears overcame me.

Hands were on my shoulders, pulling me away from her after what could have been hours sitting in that battlefield with three dead bodies and my lifeless Ginny. They were the hands of my daughter, my young daughter who shouldn't have fought with us, but she pulled me away from Ginny, away from the crimson hair and the thousands of memories that would haunt me for the rest of my days.

I knew that the view of my little Lily would be too hard to overpower. I followed her the same way I had followed Ginny the night that Hogwart's most famous headmaster had died. I felt her warm hand in mine, felt her same, fifteen year old frame walking next to mine. I didn't know where my daughter led me but she led me on and away from the only person I had ever turned to for anything who wasn't Ron and Hermione.

My knees were hitting the ground before I had registered my own movement. Lily's hands and a pair of stronger, larger ones were pulling at my shoulders, at my robes, trying to pull me up from my state but nothing could be done; no amount of picking me up and setting me on my feet again could deny that one simple truth.

She was gone.

I didn't know how far Lily had taken me, how close we were to the castle, but I looked back to where I thought her body was still laying. We had only made it a hundred yards, and yet I felt too far away from her. I stumbled to my shaky legs and went back to her, and this time I didn't feel hands pulling at me and I didn't hear voices begging me to please, please come take care of my wounds.

I took her body in my arms, I lifted Ginny up and we were connected just one more instant. A ray of sunshine perked through the secluded overcast, warming my skin for an instant. Ginny was too light, too weightless to be the same girl, the same woman I had known for so long. It was as though all of her passion and everything that made her Ginny was too be taken from me within that last ray of sunlight.

And then that light was gone, and I was alone again.

_I watched you disappear into the clouds  
swept away into another town_

I was met with horrified faces and expressions of pity when I walked into the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Tears were still streaming freely down my cheeks, but they didn't slow down the established pace of my legs. I set Ginny down on the long table that was Gryffindors' and I sat down on the bench in front of it. Her hand was losing warmth, so I held it tighter as everyone came over to me.

"What have you done about the—"

"I killed them."

"Which one—"

"The leader."

"Where is your fam—"

"They are here, look for them."

And then no questions, just a soft voice speaking to me, a voice I had known since I was eleven years old.

"Harry." I didn't turn, but I felt Hermione's slender, warm arms weave themselves around my shoulders. I felt Ron standing behind me, his hand on one of my arms. I could feel him shaking, I could hear him sobbing, and I could feel Hermione's tears slip down my neck as she pressed her face into me.

I turned away from Ginny and buried my head in Hermione's disheveled hair. We needed no words, I knew, and Ron didn't take the time to speak either. He had lost his sister, one of his closest and most faithful companions. Hermione had lost one of her comforts, had lost a person who braided her hair and told her things of life. And I had lost a third of all things important to me; the two holding me now and my three children where the only people I had reason to live for.

There was no question as to how long they would be next to me. There was no question as to how long I would need them there, would need them to stand with me. They were the only structure I would be able to rely on now, the only structure I had relied on for seven years.

But after that, they were only part of what I relied on, and now, everything was different. Everything would change.

_The world carries on without you  
but nothing remains the same  
I'll be lost without you  
until the last of days_

Just as before, when the reign of their leader subsided, the enemies fled and they no longer kept us frightened. We defeated them, though the years had been so much less than my own war, and still, we had lost too much and had gained far too little. Things were different now. Hogwarts was still there, still the same sturdy castle it had always been, and the Ministry was still led by a daft prick, but my friends were different, they treated me tenderly, my children were changed and it would take them years before they were able to be themselves again.

But I was forevermore altered to be the scarred, cold boy I was before I had turned eleven years old.

Lily, James and Albus had me in their homes often, as well as Ron and Hermione. I was in a different place for dinner every night, Monday for Lily, Tuesday for Albus, Wednesday for Ron and Hermione, Thursday at the Burrow, Friday for James, and Saturday for Teddy. I'm sure they grew tired of this process, as I grew weary of hearing the faux kindness in their voices before the occasional treat of wine, but they would never allow me to change things. They would never let me go.

Sunday was kept to myself, and I usually spent that time where I was supposed to be; in my own home, my own home with rugs and blankets that Ginny had sewed with her mother, with sweaters, scarves, mittens and hats that were my Christmas and birthday presents until this very day, with old photographs of my wedding, my last day of Auror training, my children's graduation, and finally, the one photograph that stood on the mantle above the fireplace.

It had been a cold day, so Ginny and I had bundled up in our home made gear and made for the outdoors for our normal trek on the beach that we Apparated to often. Our cheeks were red and our hair was whipped from the wind, but Lily had surprised us and taken the picture, my glasses askew and Ginny grinning and leaning over to fix them. She hadn't been looking at the camera, her gaze focused on my face, but I was laughing at my daughter, my eyes watering up as I looked into the lens.

I took the memory in my hand, my fingers tracing the laughing frame of her. She was always so bright, so happy, so wonderfully full of sunshine that whenever the day was overcast, we were able to have an indoor picnic if we needed one. I had always loved that aspect of her, as my children had too, had always adored how she was able to keep us so willing and cheerful even when the days were looking at their darkest times.

_The sun is in the east,  
rising for the beasts  
and the beauties  
if only I could tear it down,  
plant it in the ground to warm your face_

The beach we often visited held so many memories. It was there that we had taught all three of our children to walk, had watched the sunset with them when we had owned that sort of time. When the sun was shining, we took the opportunity to take the kids there to skip in the sand and dance in the water. We liked to pull each other into the waves, no matter the cold, because if the sun was shining then the cold didn't matter.

But in the dreary overcast, even with my cloak wrapped around me, I still felt so cold. My toes just barely skimmed the surface of the water but I can feel it, trying to surge up and over my body. I wondered briefly if things would ever be the same if The Chosen One was unexpectedly found on the shoreline, his body pale and frozen.

I shook my head to rid that thought. I wouldn't leave my family like that. I wouldn't leave Ron and Hermione with more pain. That wasn't fair. That wasn't fair at all.

I came here today to remember another day entirely. Ginny, whom I had often discussed this day with, had been thoroughly convinced that it was the day James was conceived. We had only been married for a few months but the time felt right to start a family. I don't remember it being my intention at all that morning when we had left our home, I don't think I had really planned on making love to Ginny Potter in the sand that day.

It wasn't the first time we had been together, but the more frequent lovemaking was new. I remember how she kissed my skin, how she felt in my hands, how the curve of her hip fit perfectly against mine. I can still feel her hands on my shoulders, digging in as we learned each other, can still feel her legs locked around my waist, can still feel her lips pressed tightly together against my shoulder, and I can still feel her fingertips lightly skimming over my face after everything was done.

She had been so small, so smooth, so wonderfully elegant that I didn't know something like that had even existed. I had seen her, felt her, touched her, explored her and indulged in her, but we had never taken such time to look and kiss and admire. It was completely intoxicating and by the end of the day I was downright addicted to her.

To mark the spot we had laid for many hours, Ginny procured a small, tiny sandcastle that was permanent despite the tide. Every time we came back, we could see it, and sometimes there were spectators that wondered how it didn't fall. But Ginny would just smile at me and twist her arm around my back and we'd continue on.

_I built myself a castle on the beach  
watching as it slid into the sea_

It seems to be a lifetime later when my little Lily graduates from Hogwarts, her brothers standing tall and proud next to her for the photograph that I took. Albus was interning to become a Transfiguration professor here at the school, and James was working at the Ministry, under a department that dealt with criminals but didn't necessarily do the field work for catching them. Lily was going to be a Healer and I had expected nothing less.

Hugo was going into magical studies with Luna's son, Fred. They planned to travel the world and make all kinds of discoveries that were worthy of the Lovegood name (and now the Weasley name, no doubt). Rose, to everyone's great surprise, tried out for the Holyhead Harpies in the spring and made the team almost instantly. She had never shown such talent while at school, but when she came to the Burrow to announce the good news, Draco Malfoy's son was at her side. We knew how to add two and two together.

Teddy was a traveler, a writer that never kept to the same place for too long. He made weekly visits back to the Burrow, Sunday evenings, but the next morning he was always off with a piece of toast in his hand. After Victoire had graduated, Teddy had swept her away and she went on all his expeditions with him, though I had no idea how she made her money or kept a steady job with the way my godson flew around the globe.

Hermione had taken a job at the Ministry after about two weeks of a break after the war—after that, she couldn't stand not working or reading or doing _something_ to help the cause. She started fighting for elf rights when we were fourteen and now, twenty eight years later, she's still fighting and she's got a fancy badge that proves she's allowed to. We're not sure how, but somewhere along the line, she gathered a lot of people who really supported her. She was given her job so she could fly farther with what she believed in.

Ron and I were still in the same places we had been twenty-five years ago; the first time the Magical Law Enforcement Department had ever had two Head Aurors. Our scores were tied, everything matched equally. They wanted to give me the job because of my namesake, but I told them that if they didn't make an except for my best friend, the deal was off.

It wouldn't have looked good to see Harry Potter walking out of the Ministry of Magic one fine day, would it?

Our lives had brambled on, and somehow I had managed to raise my children alone—there was help from friends and family, but in the end, they turned to me—after Ginny had passed on. I hadn't changed, hadn't moved from my position in the world since two years ago. I still visit that beach, still look at her picture nearly every day. It's too hard to let her go.

_The world carries on without you  
but nothing remains the same  
I'll be lost without you  
until the last of days  
until the last of days_

When I look back on it all, I have a hard time realizing that she was there for _everything_. Maybe she wasn't with me when I first faced Voldemort before the Mirror of Erised. But she was in the Chamber of Secrets; she was my reason to defeat Tom Riddle. Maybe she didn't fight off hundreds of dementors with me and maybe she didn't watch Cedric Diggory die like I did.

But when the fighting was the most important and when I really did need her, she was there, behind me, by my side, fighting all along. She came to the Department of Mysteries with me without hesitation, battled when Hogwarts was taken with pride and strength and courage. She refused to stay safe when I asked her to because that meant jeopardizing the lives of the other people she loved. It was all such an endless cycle that always seemed to repeat.

She always came out unharmed until our last battle. And our last battle became my last battle.

It was a little strange to date Ginny at first, mainly because she was Ron's sister, but when we got to talking and I started to learn about her, it was only strange because I really hadn't known her at all. She didn't say much about herself from before her fourth year, the years when she was still hopelessly lost in the dream of me. I never asked from those times. If she had wanted me to know, she would have told me.

But now I regret never asking. I feel the same as when Dumbledore died; there were so many questions I still wanted to ask, so many things I still wanted to know and understand. I didn't grasp the opportunity when I had the chance and that decision still haunts me to this day.

She would never know that I was now hopelessly lost in the dream of her.

She would never know.

_Through wars and harvest moons  
I will wait for you.  
The world carries on without you  
but nothing remains the same  
I'll be lost without you  
until the last of days_

My days would come to be with her again, I knew. But until then, I would wait, and I knew that somewhere, wherever she was now, she was waiting for me again.

And that was the only thought I ever needed to continue.

_Until the last of days_


End file.
